


Wings To Fly (And Roots to Stay)

by AceOnIce



Series: WINGO fics [17]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Alec Lightwood Has Anxiety, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Alec Lightwood, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Submission, Protective Magnus Bane, Supportive Magnus Bane, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOnIce/pseuds/AceOnIce
Summary: Alec’s had a rough day, but Magnus knows just how to help him relax.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: WINGO fics [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701433
Comments: 15
Kudos: 168
Collections: Autistic Alec Lightwood





	Wings To Fly (And Roots to Stay)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myulalie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myulalie/gifts).



> For the bingo square: touching wings  
> Inspired by [Myu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myulalie/pseuds/Myulalie) and everything she writes. The non-sexual bdsm and the Magnus dragon wings and the way they wear clothes around their wings is all stuff that's directly inspired by her wingfic [Wide open, in flight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346756/chapters/66817858) and her human AU [Let Me Please You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647134) which are both fantastic.
> 
> The use of color systems for Alec's emotions are inspired by [Bad Day by MoonlightBreeze](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677746).
> 
> All the thanks to the wonderful [Maryliz2121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maryliz2121/pseuds/Maryliz2121) for betaing!!

Alec shuts the loft door with a hard push, flinching when it slams against the frame, harder than he’d intended. The sound ricochets through the loft and his dark wings puff up in annoyance, frustrated at his inability to control his emotions.

He barely has time to get his shoes off before Magnus is coming around the corner, magic gathering in his palms, bright gold dragon-like wings spread wide behind him, looking ready to face an intruder. Alec’s guilt deepens and he reaches instinctively for the closest feather, rubbing and tugging at it. 

“Alexander,” Magnus’ voice is too gentle and Alec feels worse for the worry he hears in it. The magic fizzles from Magnus’ hands as Alec accidentally tugs too hard and plucks the feather loose. “Are you alright?”

“Bad day,” Alec answers gruffly, beginning to remove the rest of his gear, hoping he’ll feel a little better when it’s not weighing him down. He pulls it off with rough fingers, keeping the feather curled in his palm. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Magnus asks carefully, his wings folding behind him as he realizes there’s no imminent danger to attend to.

Alec shakes his head, dropping the last of his gear beside the door, skin still crawling, hands shaking. “No, sorry.”

Magnus’ eyes narrow, but he doesn’t look mad which Alec is grateful for. The only thing that could make today worse would be making Magnus upset. Finally Magnus speaks, “What color are you, darling?”

Alec shakes his head to clear it, running through the color system they had established for when Alec didn’t feel like talking about his emotions. It’s hard to get his thoughts in order when he feels like this, his brain turned to a blur of mush, an incoherent mess of anxiety and self-doubt. “Gray.”

“Do you want me to take control for the night?” Magnus asks, his voice soft as silk, an offer.

“Please,” Alec chokes out, rubbing the plucked feather between his fingers. It’s soft and warm and grounding- and not nearly enough . 

“Alright, if you change your mind or you start to feel worse, you’ll use your colors, yes?”

Alec nods, roughly combing the fingers of his other hand through his feathers until he notices Magnus watching him. He drops his hand, guilt coursing through him and falls into parade rest on instinct, lacing his hands behind his back. He knows it hurts Magnus when he injures himself so he tries his best to curb his impulses, though he’s desperate for the temporary relief. “Promise.”

“My perfect shadowhunter,” Magnus murmurs before placing a finger to his lips, considering. “I think I’ll have you clean my wings. Get the box and meet me in the bathroom.”

Alec’s heart skips. He’s only cleaned Magnus’ wings twice before, an intimate act that he was honored to experience with Magnus. He loves feeling the Warlock’s strong wings under his fingers, loves tracing the curves of the golden appendages. 

Magnus doesn’t wait for an answer before turning and heading for the bathroom, undoing his shirt from where it’s tied at his lower back and neck, around his wings. Alec is quick to follow, making a detour to their closet to retrieve the box where Magnus keeps his cleaning supplies. 

When he gets to the bathroom, Alec finds Magnus sitting on the bench in the bath, wearing only a pair of tight black boxers. Alec feels a brief stab of disappointment that Magnus isn’t naked, but he knows he’s not in the mindspace to want anything sexual at the moment. And, of course, Magnus had realized that before Alec himself had. 

“Undress as much as you’re comfortable with,” Magnus instructs, watching him with careful eyes.

Alec sets the box beside the bath before stripping down to his boxers, carefully folding each piece of clothing even though they’ll end up in the hamper later. Something about the routine, long since ingrained in him, calms his scattered mind. 

“Good boy,” Magnus praises, sending a rush of warmth through Alec. “You know what to do. Start with the brush.”

Alec doesn’t answer verbally, doesn’t need to. He gets the coarse brush from the box, gripping the smooth wooden handle in a sweaty hand, and situates himself behind Magnus, standing barefoot in the tub. Magnus’ right wing spreads out, extending so Alec has better access to it. He runs his fingers along the rough edge at the top, tracing the warm muscle and smooth surface. It’s nothing like his own wings, but it’s unmistakably Magnus.

The first time he’d been allowed to do this, Alec had worried the rough bristles of the brush might hurt Magnus’ wings, that they could scratch the shiny surface. Magnus had put his worries to rest, explaining that their wings couldn’t be more different. While Alec’s wings were strong, they were also surprisingly fragile, the feathers easily lost. The structure of Magnus’ wings meant they could withstand any amount of sharpness while blunt pressure was likely to do more damage. Even when he was aware of this, it had taken a bit of coaxing before Alec was comfortable applying enough pressure in the brush strokes to fully remove built up debris. There usually isn’t much since Magnus keeps his wings in fairly good condition Still, specks of dirt fall at Alec’s feet as he carefully brushes Magnus’ wings, starting at the top, going from left to right. 

The simple, repetitive motion quiets his part of his mind at least. He still can’t quite focus, can’t quite gather his thoughts, but his hands stop shaking and he breathes a little easier. 

When he finishes brushing Magnus’ left wing, Alec puts the brush away and pulls out the dry washcloth, worrying it between his hands. He knows the next step, but doesn’t want to continue without Magnus’ direct instruction. He’s trying to figure out how to ask for clear guidance when Magnus looks over his shoulder, meeting Alec’s gaze. “Continue, Alexander.”

Alec nods, letting out a little relieved breath at being told what to do. It’s a weight off his shoulders to finally set down the daily expectations forced on him, the constant pressure to be perfect. He’s finally allowed to set those aside, free to focus entirely on pleasing Magnus. 

He adds a bit of soap to the washcloth before retrieving the detachable showerhead, turning the water to warm, and letting it spray over Magnus’ right wing. Water ricochets off the surface, splashing Alec in the process, but he barely notices. He’s focussed on the way the water travels in glittering rivulets down Magnus’ golden appendage, following muscles, bones, and veins. It’s mesmerizing, but Alec has a task to focus on so he turns the water off and puts the washcloth to use, scrubbing at the wings with enough force to truly clean them. He scrubs the crevices thoroughly and when he’s finished, Magnus’ wing shines like a little sun. The color reminds Alec of the warlock’s eyes, stunning in its uniqueness. 

He brushes a finger over a ridge in Magnus’ wing, admiring the strength beneath the shimmering surface. When he lowers his hand, Magnus turns, adjusting on the bench to fold his clean wing behind him, unfurling the other so Alec can repeat the process. 

He cleans Magnus’ second wing with the same studious dedication, ignoring the way stray droplets speckle his own skin, until he’s finished and the water has cooled, leaving him ankle-deep in the still-draining tub. It doesn’t bother him, his focus is on admiring the results of his work, the beauty of Magnus’ wings. His own wings twitch behind him, wanting to wrap around Magnus and tangle their wings together. 

“Thank you, Darling,” Magnus says, standing and stretching his wings, shaking them slightly before summoning a towel and handing it to Alec. “Dry them.”

Alec’s muddled brain appreciates the clear instruction and he uses the towel to gently dry Magnus’ wings, ensuring that he catches every last water drop. Once he moves the towel away, Magnus turns to study him. “Color?”

He doesn’t feel so shaky anymore, but he’s still struggling not to pick at the fibers of the towel, still longing for something more. “White.”

“Alright. I want you to take a quick shower- soap, shampoo, conditioner. Don’t worry about your wings for now. Can you do that?”

Alec nods. Three things. He can do those three things if it means making Magnus happy. The warlock leans forward to gently cup Alec’s chin, sliding their lips together in a soft kiss. “You’re doing perfect. I’m going to set out some clothes while you’re showering. When you’re done, I want you to get changed and kneel on the bed.”

“Okay.”

“Good boy,” Magnus praises again, brushing their lips together once more before taking the towel and stepping out of the bathroom. Alec’s heart lurches at being left alone, but he steadies himself, knowing Magnus is only a room away. He moves quickly to step out of his boxers and draws a rune on his wings to keep them dry. He’s rougher with himself, cleaning his body with much less care than he’d put into cleaning Magnus’ wings. The water feels wrong in the way it slides over his skin and he feels a little sick, but it’s less than five minutes before he’s stepping out of the spray and toweling off and he does feel better for it. 

He discards the towel in the hamper and moves to the counter where Magnus had set out the clothes he’d promised to leave. Alec picks up the top piece, unfolding it and realizing it’s his most comfortable pair of boxers. He steps into them before running his fingers over the silky robe beneath. It’s one of Magnus’, a large section removed from the back to allow his wings to slip through. When he slides the fabric on, it falls just below his hips and is tight around his shoulders. He burrows into it, taking in the smells he associates with Magnus, sinking into the way the fabric runs smoothly over his skin, the lightest brushes of touch that keep him grounded. Lastly is a pair of old sweatpants with a hole in the knee. Magnus had once tried to convince Alec to throw them out before Alec had confessed, with no small amount of embarrassment, that he’d never found such soft clothing. Magnus’ expression had softened and he’d held the fabric almost reverently before tucking it back into the drawer. Now, Alec is grateful for them and the comfortable warmth they provide. 

Once he’s dressed, Alec walks from the bathroom to the bedroom and feels a rush of calm spread through him when he sees Magnus lounging on their bed, a book in his hands. Alec moves obediently to kneel at the end of the bed, lacing his hands behind his back and waiting for Magnus to acknowledge him. He doesn’t mind waiting, letting himself study Magnus’ figure without fear of being rebuffed or judged.

Alec likes how, when Magnus reads, his face is wiped clean of the stress he so often carries. He likes the way Magnus’ lips or eyebrows will twitch when he reads something funny or confusing or upsetting. He admires the way Magnus seems to lose all tension and melt into the bed, wings comfortably stretched behind him, providing a bright golden backdrop. He likes the way Magnus’ silky black robe drapes over his frame, clinging to strong muscles. Alec is, once again, struck by how utterly beautiful his boyfriend is — and doesn’t that make Alec the luckiest man in existence? 

When Magnus reaches the end of the chapter he’s on, he places a bookmark between the pages and sets the book aside. “Color?”

“Blue.” Much better, but still not wanting to talk about… anything really. 

Magnus nods in understanding, opening his arms, robe shifting to reveal taunting bronze skin. “Let me hold you?”

Alec scurries forward, wings fluttering behind him to maintain his balance as he dives across the bed, into Magnus’ arms. He plasters himself to Magnus, curling into him, soaking up the warlock’s warmth. He lets his wings finally do as they’ve been craving, curling around Magnus’. There’s a flutter of sparks as angelic and demonic magic intermix, but they fall harmlessly to the bed, nothing more than a small shower of color. 

“Thank you,” Alec mumbles into Magnus’ neck once he’s gotten comfortable, the comforter pulled up over them. He finally feels at peace, the scattered bits of his mind calming as he allows himself to be held. 

“I’ve got you, Alexander. Rest now.” Magnus places a soft kiss to the top of Alec’s head and the shadowhunter allows his eyes to fall shut, finally free from the weight of the day. 

He drifts to sleep with one of Magnus’ hands combing through his hair, the other a steady presence at the base of his spine, just below where their wings are entangled. He’s completely vulnerable, but he’s never felt safer.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from this quote:
> 
> It hurts, doesn't it? Giving someone everything you can think of. The wings to fly and roots to stay and yet watch them choose none of those, leaving you hanging in the middle of void and nothingness.  
> -Akshay Vasu


End file.
